


Spanish Eyes

by fhsa_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Episode Related
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-23
Updated: 2005-03-23
Packaged: 2019-02-05 14:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12796533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fhsa_archivist/pseuds/fhsa_archivist
Summary: A trip to the carnival in Spain, the AD loses himself in a new world he has never experienced.





	Spanish Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Haven, the archivist: This story was originally archived at [Fandom Haven Story Archive (FHSA)](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Fandom_Haven_Story_Archive), was scheduled to shut down at the end of 2016. To preserve the archive, I began working with the OTW to transfer the stories to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2017. If you are this creator and the work hasn't transferred to your AO3 account, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Fandom Haven Story Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/fhsa/profile).

**Note:** I fall in love with the song Spanish Eyes by Ricky Martin, and it gives me pictures of our AD and Alex in this romantic world. 

 

 

Sharon didn't come to see me when I was shot in October. 

 

A friend of mine from my past, from Vietnam, came to visit me in the hospital. We are good friends, meet occasionally for a drink and talk about now and then. We always talk about everything but each other's work- it's what we base our friendship on. 

 

Antonio, my friend, gifted me a ticket to Andalucia in Spain, along with three days and two nights in a Cadiz's hotel room. It was the only one time he mentioned my work - that I needed to have a break, to enjoy life. He didn't let me make an excuse to refuse his gift, said the tour vacation package just happened to be a benefit from his job and he was happy to finally have a way to thank me for saving his life back in Vietnam. 

 

I didn't think I could really fly away from my work and my agents, they just keep making trouble. Until I was released from the hospital, back to work and then I was injured again. Agent Holly in the Computer Records Office, who was mind controlled by Modell, kicked me in the ribs and my face. Don't look lightly at the heel of a lady's shoe, it is a weapon to make you blue and purple walking around the building and cause people to wonder. Hey, it was almost Christmas! 

So, the tour package envelope was moved from my desk drawer to my briefcase before the end of the case, and then it was put in the inner pocket of my suit. 

...I kept it through a lonely Christmas. 

 

Sharon...she said we both needed space and distance. She flied away, and I didn't bother where she left for. 

 

The tour package, open for one year, ended being thrown into the glove box of my car. 

 

A very peaceful 1996 New Year, to my surprise, my agents didn't make any trouble. They were doing well the following two months which gave me a break to look back on my marriage. I'm a forty something man, have a remarkable job compared to most of my friends. I lost my hair faster than I'm losing my wife, and I can't stop either one - our relationship is at the end of it's rope which I wait for the time to cut it apart. 

 

Good or bad, it's sad I can't feel anything. I'm numbed by all the stress from work and my personal life. 

 

The envelope, lying too long in the glove box and stuffed with other things, is wrinkled on the edges. Hesitantly, I fish out the ticket looking for the dates...I still have a few months left. 

 

I don't need that much; I take a week for my vacation. I plan to use three days in Candiz forgetting myself; as for the other days, I'll lock myself in my wife-less house. 

 

I'm good at packing; it only takes me ten minutes. So day one, I spend the whole day doing nothing, just reading on my sofa enjoying a quiet day and resting before the next three days' trip. 

 

I used up day two sleeping through the flight and driving, then arrive at my hotel in the evening. My back hurts from sleeping so long in the seats. I thank the counter clerk who sends a boy to carry my package. 

 

'...!' This is my first reaction seeing my room. Woo! A king-sized canopy bed with scarlet bedding! I wonder what other rooms look like. 

 

I tip the bellboy who puts my package beside the sofa and wishes me enjoying a wild night. I already noticed all the samba and dancing on the streets. And the driver who took me here from the airport had told me I was a little late for the carnival week in Cadiz but just caught up with the drag show. 

 

Yeah, a wild night! 

 

Why didn't the travel agency inform me it's the carnival season in advance and why didn't I research on the net beforehand? Stupid of me to step into a chaotic dimension not the quiet, silent and peaceful small town I expected. I'm not a wild man; of course this is not my cup of tea, watching the cross-dressers. 

 

But, if I don't forget that I'm Walter Skinner who barely made it between the DC office and his dead marriage then why did I come here? 

 

I don't feel like sleeping. I should go and enjoy my evening. The temperature is higher than the US or maybe it's just the atmosphere. I only put on a shirt and tie a thin jacket around my waist just in case. My wallet is fat, full of cash, and I have an impulse to spend it all like Sharon does when she's in a bad mood. Did she feel happy after she cleaned out the credit card? 

 

No...I. Will. Not. Think. Of. Sharon. 

 

Bang! I slam the door shut behind me. No one blames my rudeness, they all are out having fun. 

 

I'm a little disoriented when I step outside of the hotel. And soon the loud music and crowd swallow me. The colorful made-up faces and fancy outfits heat the night high and surreal. Like a little stone being flowed over in the river, I'm pushed into the parades. I bump into a mask shop; I buy the paint to make myself into a pirate. Black beard, and long, red scars on my cheeks. Now, I feel like melting into the crazy night. 

 

Tourists, the locals, they all dance along the boulevard, and give me improving laughter. A chubby, lovely lady pulls me to dance with her and speaks a foreign language showing me off to her friends, motioning for me to join them for a drink at the corner of the bar. Guess I'm not an easy-going type. I don't like to drink with strangers, especially since the streets are full of drag queens, some of them you can tell they are definitely male but some of them are really hard to distinguish. 

 

Yeah, I know I'm old-fashioned, and damn dogged. 

 

'Gracias' my 101th and the only Spanish I know, I keep saying it and the global word 'No'. I think this lady totally realizes I'm refusing from my body language. Her friends join her to invite me by actually pulling me towards the bar. 

 

Before I begin to lose my manners, I spot a vampire figure- I pray it's a HER. My heart beats its own life catching a glimpse of the black figure, and my eyes keep stalling on it. 

 

The chubby woman and her friends abandon me. I whirl in the street crowd dancing the samba, trying to catch up to her. It stops occasionally and turns to see if I'm still following behind. 

 

This is crazy, I'm still married, what lures me into the frenzy of pursuing a figure I'm not even sure of the gender? And I thought I was too conservative for the drag thing. 

 

The vampire figure stops on the stone stairs and steps under the light of a street lamp hesitantly. The black coat fits on the upper body and then spreads from the waist like a skirt to the knee. Tight polished leather pants and shoes. Soft gray gloves match the silk gray scarf. 

 

I come to stand three steps in front of the vampire. 

 

Even in this short distance, I still can't tell if this is a she. The collar is buttoned up nearly under the chin, so I slide my eyes down the chest. Well, this can be a woman with really, really small breasts or a man who needs to be fed more. Those vividly jade green eyes sparkle behind the eye mask don't give me a hint. 

 

The only clue is that the vampire is almost my height. 

 

I shorten our distance, trying to shed the eye mask on it's pale face. I'm aroused when it turns to run. This is the only thing I like about a masquerade, hide and seek, I didn't know the carnival also is this exciting. 

 

Misty rain begins to fall; I hunt after the tall figure by climbing the stone stairs, then deep into a small park with pairs of drag queens making out here and there. 

 

'Sino.' I turn around on the sudden breathy whisper behind my ear, startled. 

It's a male voice. A shiver runs down my spine, I don't know if it is from the fatal attraction or the cold from my shirt soaked by the rain. 

 

I take one step towards him, he steps back keeping our distance. 

 

What if people see us? A pirate going willingly to the vampire's fangs? Or is he trying to plunder the beautiful creature? 

 

"Sino?" I repeat the foreign word. 

 

He nods and smiles with an amusement seeing my confused face. 

 

"Do I know you?" I want to grab him, but that would make him run again. 

Sadness sparkles in his eyes at my question. Why do I care? 

 

He bows to me with a grace like an aristocrat and leaves me alone in the rain. 

I see him off, but the beating in my chest tells me I'm longing for him. I stand stunned, knowing the fact that my heart beats for a man. 

 

The cheap paint on my face being washed away by the rain and is dropping onto my shirt. These black and red colors remind me that he didn't put any make-up on his face. 

 

His face, voice...eyes...lips...I begin shaking in the cold and from the loss of him; I may never meet him again. 

 

Returning to my hotel at dawn, the lobby is getting filled with people. On the stairs to my room, I see many same gender couples. I forget my friend Antonio is gay, he works as a body guard for some rich gay men. This must be a gay friendly hotel they chose for the tour package. Strange thing is, I don't feel uncomfortable staying here. 

 

I smile when see my room again. Can't wait to try the bed! 

 

My face is a mess. I see the paint has melted turning a pirate to a clown in the mirror in the bathroom. Did he laugh at me? Is this the reason he lost interest in me, so he left me? 

 

Walter, stop thinking! 

 

Outside, the sunrise breaks through the city, shining on the carnival as hot as if this were summer time. I drag all the blinds closed and again to spend day three sleeping. 

 

I'm startled awake by the noise at the hallway outside my room. Men burst out loud laughing when they pass by my door. I have slept through a good seven hours, it's already noon. I want to be lazy in the silky sheets, but my stomach shouts its objection. 

 

Not ready for the happy, noisy crowd, I decide to find some food at the hotel's cafe down in the lobby. 

 

Does this world still have miracles? I see a man's back at the counter bar and think it's the man I met last night. He isn't dressed as a vampire now, just a jacket and jeans. It's no way I could recognize him but my heart knows that it's him, because it beats its own rhythm for the man. 

 

Turn around, please let me see your face, I pray silently. His company sees me staring and whispers to him. I feel an immediate jealousy at their closeness. He turns to see me... 

 

Holy shit! Krycek? 

 

Where's my gun? Where's my cuffs? Oh, I didn't carry them. I'm on my vacation in another country. I don't even have the right to use my badge here. I freeze on the spot, clenching my fists to calm down. 

 

He doesn't seem to know me; there is no recognition in his eyes. This man grinned at me warmly while he first turned to see me. And he speaks Spanish with his friend, can Krycek speak Spanish? 

 

The way he leans on the counter bar, the expression on his face when he's having a conversation with that other man. He is charming, sweet, warm and like sunshine. This is not the double agent I knew. I doubt there is another man in the world that looks so much like Krycek but actually be pure lily white.

 

He ends the conversation, walks over to me and smiles with a little pinkness climbing on his cheeks. 

 

"I...um..., you speak English?" I breathe in his cologne. 

 

"Of course," Even his voice is Krycek's, but I can't feel the Krycek I knew in this man. "I'm going out, come along?" 

 

Like falling into his spell, I follow behind. 

 

The instant we are on the street, he dances the samba. No, this man definitely is not Krycek. He is so relaxed, happy and friendly. He pulls me to dance with him. I think we don't need language; he sashays with so much verve leading us swimming through the crowded boulevard. 

 

He spots a cafe and invites me to have a feast with him. We are far from our hotel; having a not-so-noisy meal on a hill with many white houses. 

 

After we leave the cafe, we walk side by side between those orange color roofs and white painted houses. He's laughing and laughing at my stupid jokes, dancing occasionally with the soft music we can still hear from the streets. 

 

He says goodbye when we reach our hotel at sunset, his friends are waiting for him. They probably will be out all night. 

 

I return to my room, lying on the scarlet canopy bed to chew over what happened this afternoon. Is he the vampire I met last night, or are they different people and I'm just getting horny by the surroundings? Would I eat anyone who swims before me like a shark? 

 

Shark and pirate! I laugh; I really am having fun here. I'll be leaving tomorrow morning, so this is my last night here. I decide to hunt for my vampire that I paint myself into a pirate again. 

 

Tonight seems a peak of the drag show, lots of parades with cross-dressing people. I step aside, avoiding being swallowed by the crowd, and see the chubby lady in one of the parades. She sees me too, and cuts through the parades running in front of me and kisses me, saying something like a blessing when she returns to her parade. 

 

I'm so shocked at the sudden action from this woman that I don't notice a presence has stayed behind me for too long. I hear the familiar laughter. 

 

"Here, wipe it off." The vampire, he takes off his silk gray scarf and hands it to me. "Your lips have her lipstick on them." 

 

He has on make-up tonight. Painted his face dead white and his lips red like my canopy bed. 

 

I wipe my lips with the sleeve of my shirt; don't want to ruin his fancy scarf. 

Amusement in his sparkling green eyes, he knots it back to his neck. He wasn't dancing the samba last night in the vampire suit, but now he dances the passionate rhythms of Flamenco, during the sad part of the song. 

 

I reach out to catch his hand stopping him. "Shall we drink wine?" I whisper to his ear, and pull him up the same stairs I met him last night. I remember there was a bar. He laughs heartedly, and jogs with me. 

 

We sip Sherry in the outside seats of the bar. Under the bright moon, the liquid looks as scarlet as his lips. I can't stop staring at him, looking into those passionate Spanish eyes. 

 

Constantly, drunk people pass us, but I think they are more aware than I am. I'm totally drunk on the charm of this man; I can't escape from his spell on me. 

 

The night is warm, and the rain begins to fall softly and lazily like feathers while the moon still shines. No, I don't want to lose him because of the rain again. 

 

I pull him with me to run as far as we can, away from the park that's nearby. We stop in the circle of the light, under the street lamp. Two thirds of the bottle of Sherry has gone, and most of it is inside his veins making him sway. 

"Sino..." He says softly to me. 

 

"What does that mean?" He said it to me last night. 

 

"Fate. It's fate leading us here." His eyes shine with faint tears. 

 

My heart drums with desire and lust towards the sight of this man. I never knew I could ever want to kiss a man. Those jade green eyes are reflecting the same passion towards me. I pin him on the pole of the street lamp, and shed his mask. 

 

"I know it's you," I whisper sweetly thinking of the happy afternoon we spent together before devouring his mouth, tasting the flavor of Sherry. 

 

"You are my fine wine," I rasp, and dive for another hot kiss. 

 

The more exciting thing is, I'm very aroused and feel such a love for this man. The rain turns misty. I wipe off the lipstick ruined by our kisses. "Come along," I say with nervous shaking hands grabbing his shoulders, afraid the rain's going to mess up my face and let him abandon me again. 

 

By the time we reach my room, our make-up is ruined and our clothes soaked. But our passion is burning away the cold and we lose our inhibitions. 

 

I peel off his wet clothes, kissing him, and hurry to tear away mine. We fall in the scarlet silky sheets completely nude. The cool fabric sends shivers through me. I stop kissing him and sit up to straddle him under me, admiring his body. He has some old wounds on his body, I trace them with my thumbs and that makes him horny. I don't think I should ask at this moment. 

 

"Be in me. Please." He spreads his legs, pleading with his drunken eyes. 

 

"I...I don't have any-" I never had sex with a man before and I don't have any protection for safe sex. Hell, I never go on vacation for sexual release. Walter, you really forget who you are. Isn't this why I came here? To forget. 

 

"No! I don't care, all I want is you," He sits up to embrace me and whispers between wanton kisses, "...as bare as a new born." Somehow, I believe him at this point. 

 

I melt into his passion. I'm clean but I don't know about the stranger. I'm trying to reason with myself to give up this crazy one night stand. Desire, lust, alcohol wins against my wits under his love spell. We fall into the sheets again, this time they are soaked with our sweat. 

 

I'm hard and in a state of frenzy trying to bury myself in him. Our eyes searching the room for any possible lubrication. "Try the cooler," he says, laughing breathlessly. 

 

I find yogurt. Wow! 

 

"You sure you want to try this?" 

 

He nods, still laughing, then squeaks when I wipe it on his opening. 

 

"OH my God!" Laughing, "Do me!" he continues to laugh in delight. 

 

I shout in surprise when the head touches the slippery, cool yogurt on his entrance and then breaches his heat tightly. He laughs. I love his laughter so much. I wonder when he didn't, wouldn't and won't. 

 

"Your first time?" He asks softly with knowing and stills, waiting for me to get back under control. 

 

God! It's almost three decades ago I had my first sexual experience, and I find everything exciting, passionate and new with this man who looks exactly like my disappeared agent. I rock him; rip the pleasure out of his sexy body, shouting. 

I'm wasted; completely lose myself in him, in the carnival night of Spain. 

 

He has tears falling down his ruined make-up, but he chuckles, pulling me to the bathroom. In the mirror, I see the rain and sex had messed up my face paint into a monster this time, I laugh. We wash off all the make-up, yogurt and our semen in the shower. 

 

Can't sleep with yogurt on my bed, we take what we need and rush to his room down on the next floor, in the nude. No one sees us except the security camera, I think. I feel young and rude for my behavior. 

 

We sleep in his double bed, crowded under the black blankets. He is really drunk, drifting into sleep as soon as he lays his head on my chest as his pillow. Slowly, I fall into sleep with the sight of him. 

 

I hear him talking the moment I realize the bed on his side is cold. How much time have I slept? Jealousy hits me when I see him standing by the open door talking to someone, half naked. 

 

My God, no time for jealousy, my plane will leave in a couple of hours. I shift on the bed; he hears me then shuts the door and walks to me. 

 

"My friend was inviting us to join them," He slips beside me, kisses me like the rain. "Shall we go?" 

 

I sign. "I'm sorry, my plane-" 

 

"Then take me again." He doesn't let me finish, pushes me down with such force I think he could actually be a vampire. 

 

We release the essence of our passion, mine inside him and his on me, marking each other. From the window, the surroundings are bright and fresh in the daylight; his scent seems so unique, I'd remember it forever. 

"I love you!" 

 

What? I think I hear him wrongly because he says it with his face buried in the pillow. I turn him around, surprised to find his face damp with tears. I thumb it off, speechless. 

 

"I said it's fate we met here," he whispers softly. 

 

Day four, I have this man crying in my arms, I thought he was always laughing. 

He kissed me goodbye with a deadly determination, seeing me off at the airport. 

It doesn't matter how I spend day five or the rest of my vacation. It's time to move on. I decide to find myself an apartment to move in. I want a place as white as the room we made love in this morning where he said he loves me. I want to live my life savoring the memory of him sashaying to the music and laughing beside me. 

 

I didn't ask his name, afraid of the truth. 

 

I just call him my Sherry... 

 

My Spanish Eyes.


End file.
